


Does and she-wolves

by GungnirStar



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Bisexual Female Character, Bisexuality, Domestic Fluff, F/F, Height Differences, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, LGBTQ Female Character, Lesbian Character, No Lesbians Die, POV Arya Stark, Rare Pairings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:21:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28000827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GungnirStar/pseuds/GungnirStar
Summary: A small fic centring on Arya's relationship with Shireen, once where Shireen defends Arya from her mother, one where Arya defends Shireen from her mother.
Relationships: Arya Stark & Gendry Waters, Shireen Baratheon/Arya Stark, Stannis Baratheon/Davos Seaworth
Comments: 6
Kudos: 29





	Does and she-wolves

**Author's Note:**

> I'd just like to let you, dear reader, know that there is homophobic slurs in this, so don't go in blind if that sort of language is overly upsetting.   
> These lesbians have a happy life other than the unhinged Selyse moment.   
> I wrote this mostly on a whim, so don't expect too much of me. I just like this rare pair.

Arya wasn’t shallow. People thought she was, because her last ex had been unbelievably shredded, built like a bull, like a shit brickhouse. And yes, her siblings had called him that. 

That’s why they ignored her obvious relationship with Shireen. People thought she was, because Sansa and Robb seemed shallow, preferred the pretty girls and boys, or the wealthy ones. 

Shireen was different. Different to anyone Arya had ever known. 

Her face had been scarred permanently as a child in a car accident, the gravel had scraped enough of the skin off that her face had thick scarring starting around her left cheekbones and down to her neck. Arya had met the other girl through her ex, Gendry. They parted on amicable enough terms, because Arya was stubborn and refused to let them have bad blood, but the love wasn’t there. It was more physical, and Gendry wanted romance. So Arya let him leave and have his romance. When he introduced Arya to his cousin Shireen, she felt something shift deep inside herself. It wasn’t infatuation, but curiosity. Nobody had made her curious like this before. 

Shireen was shy, learned, and kind. People didn’t associate that with Arya. Arya wasn’t interested in learning much beyond history, Arya liked her kickboxing and her ballet. She really liked kicking people using her ballet positions to make sure it really hurt. 

Shireen wanted to be a teacher. She wanted to teach children and adult with disabilities. She’d been helping her step father learn to read and write, his upbringing having neglected formal education as earning money had been more essential to keeping the family fed. 

Shireen was softly spoken and considered every word she said before she said it.

Arya wasn’t. She knew she wasn’t. She was brash, loud, her words sharp and spoken in haste. 

It was only when they sat together in Shireen’s apartment and shared their silence that Arya understood her girlfriend. 

Not everything had to be loud, and there was a serenity in the silence brought on by Shireen’s presence. Her mind quietened around Shireen. Something about the Baratheon girl was a balm to her hot temper. 

Falling in love with Shireen was like running a bath. Gradual, starting cold, but the warmth quickly seeped in from all directions, until you were submerged. 

Shireen was a soft girl, she was quiet and thoughtful. 

But the moment Arya knew that she truly loved the girl was when she raged. Shireen’s rage was like a storm breaking on the cliffs, waves smashing apart anything in its path. 

Arya had returned to her girlfriend’s apartment after ballet, ready to let herself relax. She let herself in with her key as usual, and came face to face with a very cross looking woman.

It wasn’t like a Stark to be taken by surprise, but this was completely unexpected. 

“Um...Hello?” She greeted, slowly lowering her gym bag to the floor. 

“I suppose you’re the  _ dyke _ that my daughter has been cavorting with!” The woman hissed, her eyes narrowing at Arya’s short hair and her muscular physique. 

She didn’t even have time to respond before she heard a growl from behind the woman- who she had dubbed ‘Karen’ in her mind.

“How dare you.” Shireen’s voice was like ice, and Arya resisted the urge to shiver. “You have  _ no _ right to come into my home, to speak to  _ my  _ Arya in such a manner. You have no right.”

“I am your mother! I have every right! R’hllor will help you return to a normal life, you can burn away your sins, Shireen! Your father was a fool and a faggot at that, for not seeing that it isn’t normal! You can be cleansed before you reach the depths of this abominable behaviour!” She screeched. In her distraction, Arya took the moment to dart around her to stand beside Shireen, prepared to defend her if necessary. 

The girl just jutted out her jaw drawing herself up to her full height. The girl was by no means short, but she usually slouched, and tried not to look so tall and ungainly. Her whole family towered over Arya, and Shireen’s eldest cousin Mya was 6’3, after all. Shireen was comfortable at her height of 5’10. Shireen’s mother wasn’t quite so tall, and pursed her lips. 

“Mother, hate speech is a crime here. Did you know that? I’ve been recording the duration of your visit, in case I have to contact the police about your behaviours. I’m sure that father’s company would gladly represent this case. Wouldn’t it reflect badly on the rest of the family that you have criminal charges?” Her voice didn’t waver, her eyes were still stormy. Her voice rumbled like thunder in the otherwise silent apartment. 

Her mother stammered then, her face blotchy with anger.

“Mother, if you ever return here again I will not hesitate to allow my  _ girlfriend _ to show why she’s such a well known kickboxer. And I will personally see to it that you are left a penniless, destitute, raving madwoman. Go back to your fanatics, your cult. I want nothing to do with you, and I will be taking out a restraining order against you, and I could certainly submit enough incriminating information about your precious religion that the church would be raided and evidence of abuse would almost certainly be found. Or do the burns on Edric mean nothing?” She took a step closer to her mother. And surely enough, the older woman took a step back. 

Arya stared at this side of Shireen that she’d never seen before, her heart in her throat. 

“Father doesn’t suffer fools, I wish I knew why he suffered your shit for ten years. You need psychiatric help, you religious fanatic. Leave my sight and never return.” 

The Stark girl could feel every hair on her arm stand on end, like the air was electrified. She knew the lightning would strike any second. 

“Shi-” Her mother started, before Shireen stepped forward and slammed her hand against the wall, teeth bared. The woman fell silent, the anger and hatred in her daughter’s eyes seemingly silencing any protest. 

“Leave!” Finally, finally she raised her voice, her shout was sharp and harsh. Arya’s eyes were wide. Shireen rarely spoke louder than necessary, she’d inherited that trait from her father. But her father had the same deep seated wrath that was present in Robert, in Mya, in Gendry. They just had a better control of it than her uncle and cousins. 

When the door slammed shut, Arya took hold of Shireen’s hand, feeling the bones and joints for any breaks. The hit on the wall had been loud, and she didn’t want to risk Shireen being injured. But Shireen wasn’t even bothered, instead she carefully cupped Arya’s cheek. 

“I’m sorry she said that to you. Are you okay? I hope I didn’t scare you.” Her voice was soft once more, and her grey eyes full of concern. 

“I love you.” Arya responded, mind short circuiting. She was used to being the defender, the one to start and finish fights for people.

Shireen just laughed softly, leaning down to press a kiss to Arya’s forehead. 

“My fierce wolf, I know you’d have fought her for me, but I’ve lived long enough with that horrid woman to know how to get rid of her. But I love you too.” Shireen’s face brightened with a smile. 

Arya pulled her into a tight hug, burying her face in her girlfriend’s shoulder, inhaling the familiar sweet lavender and washing powder scent. 

  
  
  


She didn’t even realise she’d never introduced Shireen as her girlfriend to her family, until one afternoon when Shireen was in her room at the Winterfell mansion, Nymeria sleeping on the floor, the tall girl curled around her in a deep sleep. 

Snow was lightly falling in thick flakes outside the window, and Arya tucked her head closer to Shireen. Rickon stumbled into her room ranting about something or another, before going quiet when he realised Shireen was there. 

“Who’s she?” He asked, as if he didn’t recognise her. Arya scowled over Shireen’s shoulder towards the door. 

“You know who my girlfriend is, shit for brains. Go away. She’s asleep.” Arya hissed, and Nymeria stood up, letting out a low growl. 

Rickon huffed in a way that only a long suffering fourteen year old could huff, and stamped away. Nymeria looked back at her owner, and Arya rolled her eyes, before patting the bed next to Shireen.

The Tamaskan dog jumped up, and proceeded to wrap herself around Shireen’s back, the fluffy beast serving to be a good furry cushion to the quiet girl. 

A few minutes later, a gentle knock on the door alerted Arya to her mother standing outside.

“Arya? A word please.” Her mother’s voice came, and Arya sighed, carefully detaching herself from Shireen.

She stepped out of her room, and crossed her arms.

“Yes?”

“Who is in your room? Rickon said something about a girlfriend he didn’t recognise. I would like for you to at least tell me if you got into a new relationship.” Catelyn sighed, pursing her lips.

“It’s just Shireen. You know Shireen. She’s been staying over almost as long as we’ve been together.”

“...Together as in girlfriends, not just best friends?” Her mother’s voice sounded a little strained, and Arya bit back the urge to slam her head into the wall.

“Yes mother, together as in girlfriends. I introduced you to her at a fancy dinner, was that not enough for your impossibly high standards?” She scowled now, otherwise unable to find a reason that her mother wouldn’t understand she was dating Shireen, and had been for eight months. 

“We...Well, we thought that...She’s just not really your type, that’s all. So we didn’t realise. She doesn’t look like your ahm...Usual preference”

“We? Who is  _ we? _ ”

“Well, your father and I. Robb, Sansa, Rickon.”

“Jon knows. And Bran.” Arya bit out, fists clenched. “If you bothered ever talking to Jon you’d know that. If you even asked Bran, he’d have told you. That’s your fault for making assumptions about who I do and don’t want in my life. I’m not shallow, and I resent that you’d ever think I could be.” 

“Is this because of who she is? You don’t  _ have _ to date a Baratheon to be happy, Arya. You really don’t. You could be with a prettier girl, who-” 

Her mother went silent when Arya started counting under her breath. It was a technique she’d been taught by aunt Lyanna when she was young. If she felt like she wanted to  _ really _ hurt someone, she would count down from ten. If she still felt angry at one, then she was allowed to express that anger in a way that would be more conductive. 

When she got to two, she looked up, her grey eyes still stormy. But that anger all dissipated when Shireen placed a hand on her shoulder, the tall girl leaning in to place her head on top of Arya’s. 

“Good afternoon Mrs Stark. I hope everything is well?” She asked.

“Call me Cat.” Came the automatic response from Arya’s mother. Because she always said that. 

“My mother was just saying how  _ nice _ it will be for you to stay here in the snow, since your father and his husband are going to Lys for the winter.” 

“Yes. Yes, I was wondering if you had any particular dietary requirements for when I cook for you, dear.” Her mother quickly saved, doing her best to be a gracious hostess. Family, duty, honour. 

Shireen was part of the family now, so it was her duty to be welcoming, or else her honour would be on the line. 

“Oh, no it’s perfectly fine. I’ll eat most anything, except shellfish. Arya, I’m going to start my report on ableism in Braavosi horror, so I’ll be too focused to give you all my attention for a little while. Do you mind staying out of the room so I can work?” She asked, and Arya quickly nodded. She wanted Shireen to shine brighter than any fire.

“Of course. Just come down and get me when you’re ready to join the real world again.”

“Naturally. I love you.” She pressed a fond kiss to the top of her girlfriend’s head. 


End file.
